


Pulling Me Back

by steveandbucky



Series: in any version of reality [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Attempt at Humor, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Hook-Up, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Non-Explicit, One Night Stands, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 18:16:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4845476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steveandbucky/pseuds/steveandbucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha tends to show up to family gatherings with a fake boyfriend as a way of getting her mother off her back. Bucky tends to hook up with said fake boyfriends, much to the dismay of her step-sister.</p><p>Except, this time it's slightly different...</p><p>And their parents aren't that oblivious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulling Me Back

**Author's Note:**

> * Title stolen off a Bastille song because I'm useless with titles.  
> * There is as much Steve/Nat in this fic as there is in ca:tws (read: it's all completely platonic and pretend lol)  
> * Unbeta'd, so excuse any mistakes.  
> * Please leave kudos/feedback if you enjoyed this. :)

 

 

Natasha’s tendency to show up without a date to important family functions disappeared after she graduated college and had to spend most of her second cousin’s wedding talking to random men her mother kept introducing her to in hopes Natasha would hit it off with one of them. Bucky had spent the night watching her interact with them with a look on her face he had come to know as ‘I will murder you in your sleep and bury your body in the backyard’; a look Bucky had experienced first-hand during their childhood when he’d managed to piss her off by messing with her to get a laugh out of it and come out being scared for his life. Natasha had made a pact with him, promising to give him her car for a week, and Bucky had constantly gone to rescue her with one fake emergency after the other, laughing when Natasha told him the kind of lines they’d used on her.

After that, Natasha started showing up to every gathering with a different guy on her arm, all of them tall and handsome, with broad shoulders and strong arms – exactly the kind Bucky liked. He didn’t feel bad about hooking up with them in the bathroom because he knew Natasha had zero interest in them, and they had zero interest in Natasha, but were very much interested in bending Bucky over the bathroom sink and having their way with him. They’d get caught, of course, because Natasha was the kind of person who didn’t let anything get past her, and Bucky would get an earful for his bad behaviour, but then they’d all cover it up pretty neatly so that no one else would know what had happened.

Their parents’ 25th wedding anniversary was no different, except when Bucky saw his step-sister walk in, wrapped in a stunning black silk dress, and an even more stunning tall, blonde, and built-like-a-brick house guy on her arm, he nearly dropped his drink. It couldn’t be _him_ , surely?

Natasha had sent him an email the day before, warning him that he is _‘absolutely not allowed to hook up with this guy under no circumstances, not even any bullshit emergencies, you hear?’_ and Bucky had snorted and replied with ‘sure’ and a winky face. It didn’t take him long to make sure who the guy was, though, and Bucky could almost laugh at the irony.

“So, your new ‘boyfriend’,” he says as he approaches her at the bar. “He seems interesting,”

Natasha gives him a cold look. “Don’t you dare,”

“What?” Bucky shrugs, a mischievous smirk curving his mouth.

Natasha glances around, grabs him by the wrist and drags him to the kitchen, where the catering staff are busy preparing the food, specially ordered and supervised by Winifred Barnes, who keeps checking in to make sure everything is perfect.

Once inside the closed doors, Natasha turns and shoots a deadly glare at Bucky. “You come anywhere near Steve, and I will cut your balls off, James; I will do it, don’t test me.”

Bucky shrugs, knowing she’s capable of a lot, but wouldn’t physically harm him. “Too late,” he says, as casually as possible.

Natasha reaches forward and twists Bucky’s nipple through his shirt, who lets out an embarrassing cry in response. There goes Bucky’s conviction that his little sister wouldn’t physically hurt him.

“How the fuck did you manage?! We’ve only been here for like twenty minutes!”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Relax, okay? It happened months ago.” He says, voice low. The confused look on her face urges him to continue. “Remember last year I was stuck in DC for the holiday season and couldn’t get a flight out till New Year’s Day?”

She nods, a frown still creasing her eyebrows, her expression a mix of confusion and annoyance.

“I was dragged to a party on New Year’s Eve. I met Steve there.” Bucky says, keeping his tone almost indifferent. “We talked, we kissed, then he took me to his place and naturally we ended up in bed together.”

“Naturally.” Natasha says, her tone dry.

His mind travels back to that night, remembering Steve throwing an arm around him and laughing in his ear, the conversation flowing naturally between them like they’d known each other for years. He remembers clicking their champagne glasses together at the stroke of midnight, then pulling Steve close for a kiss, unable to stop himself. He’d melted just a little when Steve had pulled away and looked at him with that fond gaze, before leaning close and asking Bucky if he could take him home.

“It was magical,” Bucky sighs dreamily. “I blew him, he blew me, and then-”

“Eugh, shut up, I don’t wanna hear about your disgusting sex life.”

Bucky laughs, but his expression quickly shifts to something less amused and more troubled – disappointment perhaps, or the kind of sadness that comes with reminiscence. “I left him a note with my number before I left in the morning.” He says with a heavy exhale. “He never called.”

Natasha sighs, her arms dropping to her sides. She doesn’t say anything, but Bucky can read the ‘I’m sorry’ in her expression. He shrugs it off. “I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he says and turns on his heel, walking out the kitchen.

 

~~

 

Everyone’s taken with Steve. Of course they are.

He’s tall, handsome as hell but very modest about it, eloquent and good-mannered, charming as fuck, and willing to spend his night listening to Winifred’s endless childhood stories, while keeping a suitably loving arm around Natasha’s back.

He is, essentially, the perfect guy to take home to your mother, and wouldn’t Bucky had loved to do that instead of having a half-drunken hook up with him, on a holiday where everyone hooks up with everyone, a fact which would render their encounter meaningless?

There’s a lump in his throat which worsens every time Steve looks in his direction and doesn’t spare him a second glance, and Bucky can’t seem to swallow it down. Bucky remembers Steve, of course he does, and not just the way Steve’s mouth sucked bruises on his neck, the way his hands were digging into his hips; he remembers the soft smile that curved his mouth, the way he cupped Bucky’s cheek when they first kissed, and fuck, it sounded ridiculous but Bucky had felt himself already starting to fall for him.

He’s startled back into the present when Natasha appears at the table next to him. “I’m gonna be very quick about this, and listen carefully because I’m not repeating myself either, got it?”

Bucky nods, eyes slightly wide in alarm.

“And you _cannot_ do anything about it tonight, because I _will_ hunt you down, okay?”

“Spit it out, Nat,” he says, his tone a little sharper than he meant it to be, but he’s in no mood for games or teasing.

Natasha takes a deep breath. “I’ve known Steve for a while now, we’re good friends…” she says and pauses, biting down on her lower lip. “The guy is just a genuinely good person. I didn’t even ask him to be my pretend date tonight, he volunteered.”

Bucky’s frowning in confusion. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I really don’t think Steve is the kind of guy who sleeps with random people and never calls them afterwards. You should go talk to him,” Natasha says with a casual shrug. “You know what Mom says about fate and second chances and all that? Maybe there’s a reason he’s here tonight.”

“Yeah, the reason is he’s pretending to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Exactly,” Natasha points a finger at him. “He’s _pretending_. Could’ve been my real boyfriend, but he’s not, right?”

Bucky laughs as he glances back to see Steve dancing with one of their younger cousins, holding her hand and twirling her around. “Nah,” he says, looking back at Natasha. “He’s not your type.”

Natasha sighs. “No one ever is,” she says, poking fun at herself more than anything else, and they both laugh.

 

~~

 

Bucky finds him by the bar a little later, picking up two glasses of champagne from the table where there’s a whole lot of them arranged for the guests.

“Hey,”

Steve snaps his head up to look at Bucky, his blue eyes grown wide. “Bucky,” he breathes.

“So you _do_ remember me,” Bucky says, a small smile curving his mouth. He reaches forward and grabs one of the champagne glasses, ignoring the way their fingers brush together as he does, and gulps down half the glass.

“Yeah,” Steve smiles, holds his gaze for a moment then looks down at his shoes, a slight blush colouring his cheeks. “Look,” he looks up at Bucky again. “I know this is a little awkward, because I’m here with Natasha-”

“I know it’s all pretend.” Bucky cuts in.

“Oh,” Steve looks a little relieved. “Um, still, it’s best we keep our… previous encounter secret.”

Bucky nods in understanding. “Yeah, definitely.” He says, and clears his throat. “Just wanted to ask you something and then we can forget it ever happened.”

“Of course,”

Heart racing in his chest and struggling to keep his voice from shaking, Bucky asks, “Why’d you never call?”

Steve’s face falls; he looks like a lost puppy who’s just been kicked. “You gave me a fake number,” he whispers, his voice barely audible above all the music and chatter of the voices all around the ballroom.

“What?”

And then Steve’s reaching into his wallet, pulling out a twice-folded piece of paper, and handing it to Bucky. “Couldn’t figure out why you’d even bother leaving a fake number. Figured you’d just have left without a note or anything.” He says, voice still quiet, but Bucky’s shifted closer to him now, so he hears everything perfectly.

Looking down at the piece of paper, where Bucky had hurriedly scrawled his name and number before running out the door so as not to be late for his flight home, Bucky curses. “It’s not a fake.”

Steve frowns.

Bucky’s shaking his head. “Fuck, I can’t believe this,” he chuckles. “It’s the wrong number, I mixed up the last two digits.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” Bucky’s grinning now. If he didn’t previously believe what his mother told him about fate, he’s really starting to now. Why else would Steve have appeared back in his life on this night, here in New York of all places, far from the place where they’d first met, only so they could clear up a misunderstanding?

Steve’s smiling right back at him, looking at him with his bright blue eyes glinting in joy. “So you really wanted me to call you?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, unable to tear his eyes away from Steve’s, even though he knows they’re probably being a little too obvious and they’re in danger of giving themselves away. “That was a good night.”

“It was.”

“I really wanted to see you again.”

“Me too,” and Steve’s shifting closer to him, like he’s completely oblivious to their surroundings and his assigned role for the night.

“Bucky!”

Bucky’s eyes grow wide when he hears his mother’s voice, and in a second, Winifred appears next to him, linking her arm with her son’s. “I see you’ve met Steve, Natasha’s new boyfriend.”

“Sure have,” Bucky looks at her with a slightly restrained smile, trying to come off as polite instead of over-the-moon.

Winfred is beaming proudly at Steve. “I really hope you’ll stick around, Steve,” she tells him, reaching forward to put her hand around his forearm. “Maybe we’ll see you for dinner next Sunday, or at another party perhaps?”

Steve nods at her, flashing her a charming smile. “Of course, Mrs Barnes,” he says, then turns to look at Bucky, makes a polite excuse and heads off to the bathroom, and Bucky almost gasps when he realises what is going on exactly. That _bastard._

“Isn’t he lovely?” Winifred gushes, as they both watch him walk away.

“Sure is,” Bucky mumbles and wriggles out of her grasp. “Sorry, Ma, I gotta – uh – bathroom,” he stutters and starts walking away.

Winifred is left alone by the bar, sipping her champagne and shaking her head. Her husband, George, appears by her side soon enough. He drops a kiss on her forehead, making her smile fondly.

“Where’d they run off to?” he asks.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Where else?”

George laughs heartily when he catches on. “Again?”

“Yep. They thought they were being sneaky, too.” Winifred shrugs. “I don’t even care that our children are lying to us,” she says. “I really do hope Steve sticks around.”

 

~~

 

“Oh, fuck,” Steve groans when Bucky’s mouth lands on his neck, kissing and biting on the exposed skin, but being careful not to leave a mark. “Natasha is going to murder us in our sleeps.”

Bucky laughs as he sneaks his hand down the waistband of Steve’s pants, and muffles the moan that falls out of Steve’s mouth with a kiss. “Shut up and let me enjoy this,” he says, dropping to his knees and pulling Steve’s pants down carelessly. “Been hoping for months to get your cock in my mouth again.”

 

 


End file.
